Over Troubled Waters
by WonderfulCaricature
Summary: "I had almost killed myself. All it took was one look from him, and my ass was grounded to the bridge."


**Just a drabble! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Les Mis, things would have gone differently. **

I knew his first name. Although it probably didn't, it gave me this feeling of superiority over all the people who flocked around him. I knew his first name, and they didn't. It wasn't even one of those things were I just happened to come across it. He actually told me his first name. We were sitting at the bridge, right here, and he told me his name. He said it so calmly, a huge difference from how the conversation had been going, that I almost didn't pay attention to it, but something in the back of my mind registered it. So I was well aware of what he was saying when he said his last name. He was telling me I was alright, telling me that regardless of popular belief, I had a place in the Musain. I belonged in there with him and all the others. I had just nodded and reintroduced myself to him. He would have gotten awkward had I made a big deal, even though it kind of was, out of the revealing of his first name.

We had been talking, well he had been talking, I was laughing, about some stupid rebellion that happened over in England's New World. Though, I suppose by now, we could let them have their own name since they had their own land...but really, they would always be England's New World to me and anyone who didn't care. Anyway, him talking about something that happened one hundred years ago, and I was nodding my head along. Pretending like I understood what came out of his mouth. Pretending to understand what went on in that head of his. Because it's what he wanted of me, of people like me, and of people opposite of me. He just wanted people to listen to him and be inspired. Well, I was inspired. I knew others were to, but none of us had the gall he had to do something about it. So we just smiled at him, raised our fists or glasses, and turned our backs when he wasn't looking. He was brilliant, we all knew it and wouldn't deny him that honor, but we couldn't put our necks out their for his brilliance. For every ounce of brilliance and bravery he had, France had more than one soldier who had just as much brilliance and bravery. He underestimated them and overestimated us.

He was an enigma. He was a little boy playing with his father's power tools. He was a rich boy thinking he had enough money to feed every urchin on the street. He was a puppy looking for a dinosaur bone to bring his master. He was always looking for something bigger and better. Never for himself, though. Always for the people he felt needed it. The beggars on the street needed food and shelter. The fat ones in their mansions needed trial and punishment. And what did he need? He just needed to be the one who did it for them. I don't even think he wanted to be recognized for anything he did. He just wanted it to be done and to be done the right way. And if you don't trust anyone else to do it, you might as well do it yourself. He deserved to be a hero in his own epic, but he wouldn't even die a martyr in someone else's history.

"Can you read?" He had asked me the first time I ever met him.

I just stared at him. I didn't find him beautiful then. Infuriating, more like it. Who had the gall to ask someone that? Man, woman, or child. Some things are better left unsaid. Yet, he asked it. It made me look down at my clothes. Did I really look as bad as he implied?

"Give me that." I had snapped, taking the flier that he had been ready to wave in my face. Of course I could read.

"Good," He had replied with an almost smile, more like a smirk. "Then you have no excuse not to come to the Musain tonight."

"I beg to differ," Marius had interrupted, squeezing my arm as he came up. He gave me goosebumps from it. I rolled my shoulders to shake it and then looked back at the blonde handing out fliers. "Can't even read the street signs." He added with a wink.

"Well, you can interpret." He had thrust a flier at Marius's chest.

Marius had rolled his eyes at him and led me away, cursing him. Of course, he ended up there a few weeks later with some friends from the university and stayed. I followed and stayed, too. Probably for different reasons, but maybe not.

I liked the way he talked. I always sat in the back, and no one believed that I understood a word of what he was saying. Like I was unable to comprehend that he wanted to change the world. I never corrected them, though, either. They would laugh at me, jest around with me, but I would just brush it off. I'd go outside and walk around a bit, talk to some people who were in the same state of being as I, and then go back just as people were dispersing. Usually it would just be Marius and a few others. So I'd hang around, sitting at a table, staring out at the street or trying to count the cracks in the walls. The meetings were never really my thing, but I went to every one of them. Every damn one.

So we were sitting on the bridge, looking down at the water beneath us. I had been sitting here first, debating whether anyone would miss me if I jumped. Then he came past, just walked right past me as if I wasn't even here, and I decided that the answer was no. I could jump in, crack my backbone, and no one would know but me and the wall that'd do it. He stopped, though, and turned back to me. He called and asked if I was just going to sit here or follow him. I laughed out loud. Good thing I'm not a rash person, eh? I couldn't stop laughing. I had almost killed myself. I stopped laughing. I had almost killed myself. All it took was one look from him, and my ass was grounded to the bridge. Probably because of my overly odd behavior, he came over and hopped up onto the spot next to me. I had almost killed myself, but he was here now. Here and talking about everything revolutionary.

And his name.

"What do you," He repeated my name after I had reintroduced myself. "Believe in?"

I glared down at the water below me and then the sky above me. Then my hands and my clothes. My glare faded when I noticed his expression out of the corner of my eye. He truly wanted to know what I believed in. What did I believe in? I laughed it off, and his expression faded.

"I believe in the truth that the boys will go crazy with worry if you're not there on time." I teased, tossing what had been in my hands into the water, dragging our moment with it.

I knew I ruined the moment, but I'd always have the memory.

**The narrator is meant to be anonymous ;)**

**Let me know what you think in a review!**


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